Running with the Wolves
by 1103469
Summary: After an eventful encounter with the God of Wolves, a young Tarrlok wakes up with newfound abilities and memories of his previous life. Time-travel AU. Tarrlok/Korra. Eventual Amon/Korra. Cross-posted on AO3.
1. Prologue

In the darkness of the cosmos, a gray wolf shook his fur and sniffed the air curiously. His azure eyes gazed into the world. Everything has changed.

The avatar had succeeded in transforming both worlds for the better. The spirit and the human realms were no longer separate, but planes connected. Once again, representation of the four elements – air, water, earth, and fire – was truly balanced. All was in perfect harmony.

Except it wasn't.

As the wolf stared into the pool of souls, he wondered what error he allowed to take place. This unnatural feeling that bothered his senses. Tentatively, the beast lapped from the black pool, trying to understand its cause.

Immediately, he could taste the many souls that inhabited the realms of the living and the dead. However, he could discern one being who had a peculiar flavor.

The wolf debated whether he should pull this person from the pond. To do so without the aim of tearing the soul apart would weaken him. But, to leave this being unmanaged in his precious pond would infect its ecosystem.

Pacing left and right, a curious thought occurred to him. He made his decision.

The wolf snatched the soul and pulled.


	2. Water or Wine

As a child, Tarrlok had always feared wolves. Their copper eyes glowed with malice, their drooling snarls promised unspeakable horrors. They were easily threatened, never hesitating to attack anyone who posed a danger to their pack. It was unspoken in his tribe that wolves are to be left alone unless one wished for a death sentence.

The most terrifying of all was the god of wolves – Amarok. The wolf who stole away the souls of foolish men hunting alone. A myth to keep children from wandering outside at night and to prevent stragglers from leaving the tribe. When a man or spirit was unlucky enough to offend the god, Amarok would pull him from the pool of souls and tear him to shreds. Amarok was a violent god… a vengeful being.

So, when Tarrlok thought to search for his brother that night without the unyielding gaze of adults, especially his father Yakone, the boy grew careless. His stubbornness and love for Noatak led him into a blinding snowstorm across the unforgiving tundra. The waterbender brought his hands up to bend the strong hail pelting his form. Without the distraction of other warm-blooded people, perhaps he could finally sense and determine the location of his brother. All the boy needed to do was to focus on a beating heart and return his brother home. Amarok could devour Tarrlok's soul for all he cared.

But, as the hours passed by and the storm blanketed his surroundings into near darkness, the cold became impossible to ignore, seeping into his bones and draining his strength. Tarrlok's concentration kept slipping as the freezing night beckoned him with promises of unending sleep. The hope of seeing his older brother again was the only force driving his long trek through the snow.

The storm was relentless nonetheless, determined to bring him down to his knees. When Tarrlok finally fell to the ground, his last thoughts were of happier memories with his family. Before Yakone was engulfed in hatred and his mother in catatonia. Before Noatak became distant and aloof.

Tarrlok felt his consciousness drifting and took his final breath.

_Forgive me. _

The boy succumbed to sleep, alone in the blizzard with no one the wiser.

* * *

As the wolf sniffed the prone being from the pond, he recognized the boy for who he was. The younger bloodbender, son of Yakone. What an interesting catch.

The grey beast neared his muzzle to the boy's face, licking alongside his cheek and ear. Within seconds, the boy's eyes blinked open, clouded and confused.

"Wh-what?" Tarrlok groaned as he sat up from the ground, rubbing his bleary eyes. He felt damp earth under his palms and heard lapping sounds of gentle waves. Looking up, he saw the vast expanse of glittering stars and colorful nebulas through the weak fog. Awestruck with the view, his admiration was interrupted by a loud bark on his left.

A monstrous grey wolf looked at the waterbender patiently with its azure eyes. Its knowing gaze stoked the boy's fear of wolves by tenfold. Gasping with shock, Tarrlok clambered to his feet and stepped away from the wolf as quickly as he could.

"I wouldn't advise you to take another step, bloodbender. It would do you more harm than good."

The frightened child froze his movements, his growing curiosity overpowering his anxiety. The gravelly voice had come from somewhere, but he could only see the wolf in front of him. Realization dawned on him that the formidable animal who was as tall – maybe even taller – than a grown man had been the one who spoke.

The boy, quickly pulling himself together, gulped, "Who are you? Where am I? ...Why am I here?" The last thing Tarrlok remembered was dying in a snowstorm, finding his brother to no avail.

The towering wolf circled the waterbender, paws loudly padding on the dirt. The beast's tail swung lazily, its size and graceful dance mesmerizing Tarrlok. "This is a place for repentance and suffering. A place without innocence. I am its keeper. Only tragedies of the past, present, and future remain."

"That doesn't answer my questions!" Tarrlok was getting agitated by the second, frustrated by the giant wolf's riddles.

The beast stopped and faced the boy, nodding behind him. "Look into the pool. Tell me what you see."

As the scared child spun around, the mists hovering over the waters swirled and departed to reveal a glistening ocean. This time, Tarrlok quietly appreciated an impossible view no human soul had ever witnessed. The ocean body stretched into the horizon, its waves reflecting the light from the starry cosmos above. One could see the twinkling stars laughing against the painted canvas of the night sky. Roaring whitewash spread into bubbling sea foam when it reached the shoreline.

However, the alarming absence of moonlight and the apparent inkiness of the ocean told the waterbender he was out of his element quite literally. Yue and La did not reside in this domain at all.

With justifiable trepidation, Tarrlok stepped into the ocean and glanced back to the wolf lingering at the shore. Determined to find his answers, he submerged himself under the shallow waterline.

* * *

Within minutes, hours, days, Tarrlok had relived memories of his past. He saw himself as a desperate teenager who had left his home and distanced himself from his family. Yakone was formally uneducated, tasteless, and brutish in his exercise of power, and his mother, albeit talented with a silver tongue, was meek, unresponsive, and emotionally absent. Tarrlok, who inherited his mother's eloquence in speech and his father's political cunning, fled to university to cultivate his knowledge and refine his manners. Along the way, he reinvented his tragic background and erased his backwater accent, establishing himself as a fellow sophisticated metropolitan.

As he grew older, he was successful in slithering his way into Northern Water Tribe politics. He learned valuable lessons from his mentors and betrayed them to earn a seat in the council, becoming the youngest person to reach such a position of authority. Tarrlok's thirst for control was insatiable as his need to stroke his vanity. When he attained the position of Representative for the Northern Water Tribe in the Republic City Council, he thought this was his chance to remold the city – to be its savior – unlike Yakone who was its nemesis.

Nonetheless, he was not immune to power's corruption. He took and made briberies for councilmembers and bending gangs. He intimidated civilians and officials alike, turning a blind eye to the defenseless and the poor. Tarrlok was following his father's footsteps to the exact toe until a pretty girl with such expressive eyes of aquamarine – who bended water, earth, and fire – provoked him to reveal his secret.

Did he truly regret bloodbending and abducting the Avatar? When Tarrlok replayed the moment, he acknowledged his foolhardy actions for instigating the fight. He would not apologize for bloodbending Korra however. Gods, her fiery offense was about to grievously injure him, and the waterbender did the only thing he could to save himself.

Abducting Korra was another difficult matter. What were his plans after the council found out about his horrific secret? Keep the Avatar hostage forever until one of them eventually perishes? It wasn't the most practical solution, yet the practice of bloodbending is an unforgivable offense punishable by death. The man would never bring himself to kill the Avatar, but he would like to continue living on his own terms.

Only when Amon destroyed his very being did his desperation to survive vanquish. Tarrlok never forgot the cold, terrible grip of his brother's bloodbending. One moment, he felt the rushing movement of every cell, every bloodstream, in each person in the room. The next, he was numb and deaf to the siren call of water. The waterbender was no more. Tarrlok died that day, his sacred connection to Yue and La irrevocably severed.

Of course, the shock of learning that Noatak was alive after more than two decades also drowned him in a continuous state of sorrow. The former waterbender wasn't furious at his brother though. He was empty in mind, body, and soul. Tarrlok did the only thing he could do in his cell; he waited. When Noatak retrieved him from his cell and manned the escape boat, his brother's hope for a second chance brought him to his senses. He could see it now: Yakone's sons escaping to the Pole, raising families, and training the next generation of bloodbenders to avenge them.

He took the glove and uncapped the fuel tank. Tarrlok had one goal in mind: to end the cycle of vengeance and grief.

And so, he did.

* * *

As he reemerged from the waters and turned back to the wolf, the young boy disappeared and, in his place, stood a tall man, scarred by his pride and prejudice. The man, wiser in years, spoke dispassionately. "You're Amarok the God of Wolves."

Tarrlok lumbered towards the shoreline where the wolf waited. When he tilted up his head to look at the wolf in the eyes, the former bloodbender let out a sigh. "You stole my soul from the pond, and now you plan to tear me asunder."

The mortal dropped to his knees, head hanging low. "Go ahead. I don't care."

Amarok chuffed. "Quite the contrary, bloodbender. You may prove useful to me yet."

"Why?" Tarrlok snapped his head up and rasped at the beast. "Why do you torture me still, Beast? Leave me be. Grant me my final rest!" The thought of being finished with life, or the afterlife in general, nearly drove the man rabid.

"And, your brother? Should I also fetch him from the pool and render him to shreds for your insolence?" The grey wolf gestured to the pool.

Tarrlok ceased his lamentations. Evident rage filled his timbered voice. "What do you want with me?"

The wolf god lowered his head and licked Tarrlok's face. "You must correct your errors in judgment, young one. At the cost of my own powers, you have been blessed with abilities no mortal has seen before. You will become my warrior in this world and remind its children the mercy of Amarok."

The giant beast retreated from Tarrlok as swirling mist gathered around them. "Do not think to abuse these gifts. I will not hesitate to extinguish your brother's soul."

Looking distressed by the thick fog surrounding his form, Tarrlok shifted nervously, his feet splashing back into the pond of souls. "Where are you going? Leave Noatak alone!"

Ignoring the human's pleas, Amarok the God of Wolves vanished.

"Wait, wha – Ahhhhhh!" The waterbender plunged in the freezing waters below.

* * *

_GASP_.

Eyes wide and heart pounding, the boy hyperventilated in the snowy landscape. Squinting now through his dizziness, he could make out the sun's morning rays. The unyielding brightness of the tundra and his near brush with certain death worsened his vertigo.

Tarrlok took a few deep breaths, sitting up momentarily with his head to his knees. He was dead. And, now he's alive, back home – back to hell. Oh, spirits, why?

He shook his head, lost in a blur of confusion and desolation. He could still remember the explosion. The force of the blast tearing apart his flesh and bones and the pain only consuming his body until he knew nothing else. He remembered quite clearly the creeping numbness of the cold singing him to sleep in the violence of the snowstorm. Death had claimed him twice, but Amarok had wrested him from her talons. Was Tarrlok a man trapped in the body of a boy, or was he a boy trapped with a man's memories?

The nausea abated as the minutes went by, his breathing calming considerably. Knowing he must move eventually, the boy unfurled and examined himself.

Everything seemed the same, his limbs seemingly shorter from an adult's perspective. He was still wearing the thick parka and fur trousers he had left with. Then, he noticed his uncovered hand.

Adjusting his snow goggles upon his crown, the waterbender brought the said hand to his line of sight, tracing the crescent-shaped injury tenderly with his other hand. From what Tarrlok could detect, it was the bite of an animal. The bleeding punctures were deep – deep enough he wondered if they went through the entire hand.

However much the wound looked to be agonizing, strangely he couldn't feel a thing. Tarrlok hoped that it was an entirely logical case of leprosy, but something told him that vision of Amarok and his Pool of Souls might have caused this to happen.

Finding his mitten, the waterbender cautiously pulled the fabric over his injured hand and struggled to stand up on crumbling snowy ground.

Now, how was he supposed to go back home? Tarrlok's suicide mission took him many miles away from his village. He knew the journey back would be almost as arduous as the night before. The boy squinted against the morning sun, seeing and feeling no living being within his range… until the faint drum of a beating heart called out to him.

_I'm not alone. _

Before he was conscious of it, he was sprinting towards the source, arms swinging to propel his waterbending. What should have been a long trek instantly shortened within a few minutes. In the back of his thoughts, he quietly thanked whichever spirits restored his bending. The pleasure of being reconnected to his element was a treasure to behold.

He could see the figure now. It was not one of his own kind since humans were certainly not quadrupedal. The waterbender could make out its russet fur, pointed ears, and inquisitive amber eyes.

He slowed his glide, leaping into the air and landing upon the ivory snow. The wolf tilted its head in curiosity.

After a few seconds of examining the animal, the boy made his decision and kneeled. Not sensing any danger, Tarrlok took off his mitten and offered his wounded hand.

The wolf looked at the human's injured palm, then to his patient visage, then back again to the hand. It trotted forwards, sniffing the offered limb and then licking the bleeding wound.

As the wolf grew more comfortable with the boy's presence, it started playfully biting his fingers. Tarrlok chuckled at his luck, running his other hand through the wolf's fur. "Good boy…" The wolf's short growl and a quick look at its _other_ defining features proved him wrong. "I mean, girl. Good girl…"

A few light-hearted minutes have passed, the wolf butting her snout into the waterbender's every gear and accessory. Tarrlok played along, fruitfully enjoying the companionship of an animal who didn't snarl at his hidden abilities.

"I hope you don't mind, but if you were to be my pet friend back home, could I call you 'Ila'?" The boy scratched behind her ears.

The wolf yelped happily.

"Alright, Ila it is," Tarrlok's smile grew then suddenly dropped. "Would you also happen to know where my home is? I'm lost, and there aren't any villages nearby within a few miles."

Without warning, Ila barked and tugged his arm sleeve forward within her jaws. The lean wolf dragged his flailing body through the frosty ground, uncaring of the bodily state of her charge in her overexcitement. The young boy, surprised by the wolf's strength, could only yell out haplessly during the moments when he was soaring above the snow, like a dolphin piranha jumping arcs over the ocean surface.

"I'D APPRECIATE… IF I COULD… BEND… INSTEAD OF… DROWNING IN… THE SNOW… PLEASE!"

The female wolf halted abruptly, sending Tarrlok into the snow drift as his tumble created a decent outline of a snow spirit.

"Thanks, buddy," the boy muffled.

Ila yipped in amusement.

For the remainder of the day, Tarrlok followed Ila along, hoping to see civilization again. Despite her seemingly normal physical characteristics, Ila was disturbingly fast – almost ungodly so for a healthy adult wolf. The boy felt his arms already tiring from swinging them so often in his waterbending stance, but he was afraid of losing Ila's lead, and by default, his way back home.

He wished he could go faster and keep up with the female wolf. If only there was a way…

"_At the cost of my own powers, you have been blessed with abilities no mortal has seen before." That's what Amarok said. I wonder…_

Taking a chance to believe his wild hallucinations, Tarrlok willed himself to accelerate, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

And, just like that, the God of Wolves breathed within him and unleashed his power.

_Holy crap. _

A current of adrenaline rushed through his veins, lethargy fading away. It wasn't like waterbending when one was in tune and constantly connected to the ebb and flow of surrounding water potential, but it's different from bloodbending when invasive control over a person's movements was unquestionably absolute and addicting. The overwhelming sensation of complete confidence and knowledge of his abilities was electrifying, energetic, and purely divine. He could see the stars beyond the afternoon sky, he could taste the wind carrying with it the saltiness of the sea, and he could gauge miles away the soft, chattering of fellow humans. His sensory cues were greatly heightened to the point the boy was concerned of having an information overload. But, this sensory overabundance did not bother him at all. In fact, Tarrlok thought he was doing rather well for a twelve-year-old child who died twice.

The waterbender was gaining on Ila rapidly, infinite possibilities of what Amarok's gifts entailed racing through his mind. Upon reaching her and maintaining the same speed, Ila turned and barked loudly at a grinning Tarrlok before facing forward.

Glancing back at Ila, the boy was reminded of their mission, furrowing his brows and pursing his lips. The strange vision with Amarok could wait another time.

Both the boy and the wolf eagerly dashed towards the evening sunset, bronze hues slowly meandering into an indigo shade upon the blank canvas of the tundra. If only Tarrlok the man knew of the sacrifices he had freely given to the God of Wolves...

* * *

Amarok stared intensely at his pool below, contemplating the consequences of his unprecedented actions. He dangled and flicked his paw in the waters, scattering droplets in random directions.

Meddling time with the bloodbender was not an ideal solution to such a grievous situation the god had created for himself, but it would have to do.

The grey wolf tilted his head to the cosmos above, pondering everything he had done and anything else he had neglected to do. Any action he had taken, whether it be wise or dubious, had led to this moment. Amarok was an old being who witnessed the creation of spirits and humans alike and would continue to observe the coming and going of these beings.

He only hoped that his decision was not one of regret, but one of gratitude.

_So, it begins. _

* * *

**Author's note: **

**When coming up with this story, I was heavily inspired by Marshmello's single "Wolves" featuring Selena Gomez. I thought that maybe, if he had one, Tarrlok's spirit animal would be a wolf and that the song fits into my idea of the Tarrlok/Korra pairing. Lo and behold, this piece was born. Most likely, this will be a long written work, but not so monstrous as to tire you of reading. I'm not quite finished with the outline, but the ending is clear in mind. I haven't written serious fanfiction in a while, so please bear with my untimely updates. Also, if you didn't know, reviews are always much appreciated. They really help boost an author's motivation and, in turn, the story's updates. Thank you so much for reading, my lovelies! See you all in the next chapter! **

**Edited for grammar: 8/24/19**


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